


Grief and Music

by Blitzindite



Series: Prompt Me [3]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Angst, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Mentioned Abuse, No Romance, Prompt Fic, Prompt: Music, can be looked at as strong friendship instead, either way works, minor injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 03:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13895043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blitzindite/pseuds/Blitzindite
Summary: Mark Bop had faded a long time ago. Bing needed to move on. But with Bop’s passing, he’d discovered he grieved for a long time. When would the grief go away?





	Grief and Music

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be cute. It was supposed to be more heavily based on the 'music' part of the prompt. Then the cute part turned into a flashback.  
> Then the present was supposed to end with cute Chase/Bing banter. That didn't happen.  
> IT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO TURN INTO THIS >.<;
> 
> I swear, when I TRY to write something happy, I just can't---

_Laughter._

 

_Games._

 

_Singing._

 

_Dancing._

 

_Those were the sounds that often filtered from Bop’s room when the trio found themselves immersed in something or other. They were never far apart; the two Ipliers taking to Chase the moment they’d met him. Sometimes there was the occasional crash, or one of them would run out with eyes wide in a search for the nearest fire extinguisher, but it always went full-circle back to the laughter._

 

_From Chase it was loud. He wouldn’t conceal his joy at terrible jokes and fun games and atrocious trick fails. The father would grin the entire time, blue eyes bright. Chase’s American accent would eventually falter into his creator’s Irish one, which would just make him laugh harder and words to slur._

 

_Bing’s laughter always started deep in his chest, and would eventually shift into clicking whirs that made him appear and sound out of breath, even if that wasn’t actually possible. He’d squeeze his eyes shut and bare his teeth, nearly teetering off whatever perch he’d claimed as a chair._

 

_Bop’s was quieter, almost shy. It always started with the contained giggles, then his ears and cheeks would start turning red with the first snort. After that, his defenses would collapse and it would transform into a snorting, wheezing sort of sound that left tears in his eyes and a grin that just wouldn’t leave his face, and speech would transition randomly between English and Simlish. All it did was make the bouts of laughter from the other two last even longer._

 

_They referred to each other as best friends. Sometimes Bop would even go so far as to elbow the other two with a wink. They would splutter for words, and the lesser Ego would start laughing. Bop had always liked to make it obvious he thought the two would make a cute couple. “Seriously,” he’d say, “you two are so close, I don’t think ‘best friends’ cuts it anymore!” and leave them as a blushing, stuttering mess._

 

_Bop had always loved to create music. He was really good at it, too!_

 

_He was always creating something new, making copies for Bing and Chase. He’d beam bright as the sun when the pair would listen to his newest creation. Bop was like a giddy child as he waited for their reaction: Shifting from toe-to-toe, eyes wide, hands wringing together. “Did you like it?” he’d ask._

 

_The pair would applaud the new song, inquire its name, the time it took to create. Bop would blush and stumble over his words as he answered. It was the cutest thing, really…_

 

* * *

 

Bing screwed his eyes shut and pushed the memories to the back of his mind. Bop had faded a long time ago. Bing needed to move on.

 

The android took in a shaky, unnecessary breath to steady himself. His hands clenched and he locked his aching jaw, forcing the tears away. He was a quiet griever who didn’t like the others to see his tears. The color-named Googles mocked him enough as-is. And with Bop’s passing, he’d discovered he grieved for a long time. They didn’t need to know that.

 

He was alone. A small hallway hidden deep within the building had become his hiding place. Most of the others didn’t even know about it—only a very select few did. As such, Bing had claimed it as his. All it housed was a small supply closet where the android stored repair supplies, and a single light.

 

He went there when he needed to be alone. Went there to repair himself when Red and Green decided to hurt him with more than just their words. Would hide there for hours on end when those two and Blue nearly brought him to tears.

 

Fingers twitching, Bing dipped his head. He’d discovered the hall shortly after Bop had faded. He was rather positive that Egos, Inc. had created it just for him, as a way to escape for a while. With how often the android used it, the comfort he’d find in it, the building had never removed it; even if it didn’t approve of Bing hiding from his problems.

 

A pair of black headphones, accented by orange, sat atop Bing’s head. They were connected to an unseen device in his pocket. He’d seated himself on the floor across from ‘his’ supply closet; one knee pulled his chest and an arm holding it there like a lifeline, chin rested over them both. His free hand rubbed at his cheek where synthetic flesh had been torn open to reveal the metal mandible and almost eerily human-like teeth underneath. He didn’t even know what Red had hit him with. All he did know was that it had hurt like a fucker and that he’d bolted from the room with Green and Red’s laughter fading behind him.

 

He would have to ask Oliver to repair it since he couldn’t do so very well with its location.

 

Sucking in a shaky breath, he tried to relax. One of Bop’s songs pouring into his ears helped ease the tension in Bing’s frame, but his core still clenched painfully. The injuries always hurt, but not as much the words. And Green was _real_ good at wording things in a way that really got to the ‘default.’

 

A sigh left the android and he let his shoulders droop. He tried to focus on the music. Tried to bring those memories long past back to the forefront of his mind.

 

The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. He used to always go to Bop’s room when he couldn’t be around the Googles any longer. Bop would invite him in with a sad smile and open arms. With Bop now gone and Incorporated having removed his room from its layout, the hallway had become Bing’s safe place.

 

A hand on his shoulder startled the android, headphones preventing him from hearing the approaching footsteps.

 

His first instinct was to protect his face and reel away from the contact. His core felt like it had frozen, fear gripping it like a vice. Had Red or Green discovered his hall?

 

The android risked lowering his arms just enough to peek over them, eyes barely cracked open as they peered over his sunglasses. Yellow-orange met bright Septic blue. A familiar flatbill cast those eyes in shadow, but the concern etched into the other Ego’s face was so obvious it hurt.

 

“Bing? You okay, man?” Chase’s hands were hovering in front of him. He looked not only concerned _for_ Bing, but afraid that he might have hurt the android without realizing.

 

The tension immediately left the Iplier. He slipped his headphones down around his neck and offered a smile. That smile resulted in a grimace as it pulled on torn flesh. “Yeah. Yeah, dude. Just…” He ended with a hiss and wince as Chase brushed his fingers over the wound. Chase jerked his hand away at that, eyes wide. “Just some circuits an’ the flesh need fixed up. No biggie.”

 

The Septic snorted through his nose and sat heavily against the wall to Bing’s left. “Red and Green?” When there was no answer, Chase grit his teeth. “I’ll fuckin’ kill them…”

 

Bing rolled his eyes. “No ya won’t. You’ll just wind up hurt. And I really don’t want that.” He leaned his head back against the wall. “’Sides. It would fucking _kill_ Ollie if any of them passed. We might not like ‘em, but they’re his brothers. We can’t do that to ‘im, dude.”

 

Chase slumped against the wall. He opened his mouth, but snapped it shut again when no words came. Bing was right. They couldn’t do that to him. Sweetheart Oliver who acted nothing like the other Googles. They couldn’t.

 

A defeated sigh left the Septic before he reached down. He laced his fingers with the android’s, running his thumb in circles over Bing’s hand in a way that comforted them both. He felt the metal and heavy threads shifting beneath the synthetic flesh of his friend’s hand; how they acted as muscles and bones, ligaments and tendons. His eyes found the headphones around Bing’s neck, and his gaze dropped to the floor beneath their hands.

 

“You miss ‘im?” the Septic asked.

 

A tiny nod responded. “Every day,” Bing said. “Some days’re worse than others.”

 

“That’s just how grief is, man. And it sucks.”

 

Bing pulled his sunglasses off and shut his eyes. He never felt the need to hide around Chase. So what if the Septic could see his mechanical eyes or hear the humming of his core?

 

“When…will it go away?” He’d searched and searched for the information, but he always found different answers. Sometimes they weren’t even answers. All he wanted was one positive statement. He wanted the grief to just go away.

 

Chase squeezed his hand, making the android open his eyes and glance back to the Septic. “It’s different for everyone, y’know? But just don’t let yourself forget about ‘im. Bop was our best friend. He’ll always have a place in our hearts. Cores.” Chase leaned back and closed his own eyes. “It sounds cliché, I know, but it’s true.” He smiled a little. “I miss ‘im, too. Trust me, man.”

 

“Well… How’d you handle it?”

 

A small laugh, and Chase gently shoved the other. “For one, I didn’t hide from my friends.” Bing lowered his head, eyes brightening in the androids’ variation of a blush. “Two, I talked. To Jack, Signe, and my kids, especially. I know you an’ Mark aren’t close, but you can talk to me, or Ollie, or the Twins. And I’m sure Jack’d make time for ya if you asked ‘im!”

 

Bing nodded, smiling a little. It was small so as not hurt his already aching jaw further, but it was there and it was noticeable.

 

Using their still-twined fingers, Chase stood and pulled the other to his feet. “Why don’t we find Ollie to fix that up, then we can talk s’more?” The father smiled. “Things’ll get better, man. Trust me.”


End file.
